


Delicate

by price_is_right



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Loss of Limbs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, PTSD, PTSD Triggers, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soldiers, Top Steve Rogers, Triggers, civilian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/price_is_right/pseuds/price_is_right
Summary: When Sgt. Barnes comes from Iraq, he finds that he has suffered a debilitating injury from an IED. After waking up from a medically induced coma, Bucky must adapt to a new way of life. While in physical therapy, he meets a stunning blond volunteer therapist named Steven Rogers. They become close friends while Bucky is in physical therapy. Even after the Brunet's mandated physical therapy is over, they stay friends. As they continue to grow closer, Bucky finds himself growing feelings for the other, feelings he doesn't understand, but pushes them away until he finds a key detail about the Blonde, that he had been hiding. When it comes time for Bucky to redeploy, he finds every way possible not to go back yet, trying to deal with his feelings for the other. Steve pushes him away, not wanting to get used. Bucky must convince Steve he actually wants him.I am crap at writing summarys. I'm sorry. ┐( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)┌





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

> So for one, I have a few people I want to thank before we get started in this fic. I wanna thank beepbeepromanoff from tumblr for being my beta reader. I can not tell you how lucky I am to have such an amazing beta reader! I also wanna thank cobaltmoony/cobaltmoonyart for her art inspiring me to go back to writing.(also can be found on tumblr) Check her out, especially if you LOVE Stucky. Anyway. I do apologize now for the possibility of inconsistent updates. I work up to 80hrs a week,so I will try and get these chapters out as fast as possible.

Bucky awoke to the irritating beep of a heart monitor. His throat felt clogged and sore. All he could recall was him and his team driving down a highway near Baghdad when the world flipped upside down and he was plunged into darkness. Now he was here. Coming out of his haze, the brunet didn’t realize where ‘here’ was exactly or what had happened. Bucky’s body was still coming out of its deep sedation, his limbs feeling fuzzy. Panic struck the soldier rapidly, worrying that it wasn’t just a fuzzy feeling, rather than a loss of feeling. He worked to start moving his toes and fingers. Slowly, he regained his senses, first starting in his right arm, then his legs and feet. He moved them hesitantly in the bed, just enough to know that they still worked. Then Bucky started to feel a stinging pain in his left shoulder. There it was. He knew some part of him had to have gotten fucked up. Under the tubes of his breathing apparatus, there were the beginnings of some medical gauze on the left side of his collarbone. He wasn’t just going to walk away from this unscathed, was he? Bucky managed a sigh, irritated at the prospect of not using his left arm for at least month and dealing with a stupid cast.

Outside, Dr. Wilson stood waiting in front of the room of Sgt. James Barnes. He was paged a few minutes earlier by a nurse that his vitals had picked up, meaning he was waking up from his coma. He hated this part of his job: telling people the worst news they’d get in their life. He straightened up and took a deep breath, then opened the door to his patient's room.

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes. My name is Dr. Wilson,” he said calmly, walking in quietly so as not to startle him. Bucky’s eyes watched him closely as he approached his bed. “You were in a coma due to your injuries. So how about I start by taking these breathing tubes out, okay?” he asked, looking at Bucky, checking to make sure he understood what he said. Bucky gave a weak nod, and Dr. Wilson began to work. He carefully removed the straps around his face that held the tubes in place. “Alright, you’re gonna wanna take a deep breath and cough for me as I’m pulling it out.” He gave a meek nod. He took a deep breath and began to cough, feeling the tube come out of his esophagus. He felt like he was going to throw up until finally, it was removed. He continued to cough and wheeze when Dr. Wilson handed Bucky a glass of water. The brunet gulped it down eagerly. 

“So what happened to me and my team?” Bucky asked, his voice gravelly and sore. He watched Dr. Wilson sigh softly and sit down next to the bed. 

 

“Sergeant Barnes, I’m about to tell you some upsetting news. Are you sure you are able to handle that right now?” Dr. Wilson asked, and Bucky nodded immediately, brow furrowing deeply. He took a deep breath. “You and your team were in a very bad accident. You were about ten miles out of Baghdad, and your vehicle struck an IED. I don’t know if you recall, but you were driving, and you had four other people with you. Only one other person is still alive, PFC Romanoff. Her injuries are the least severe. She has a few breaks, some internal bleeding, and a traumatic brain injury. Thankfully, she’s expected to make a full recovery.” The man stopped for a moment, looking at the soldier, searching for any emotion present on his face. The only change was the sorrow and guilt in his eyes. “You have some more serious injuries though…” Dr. Wilson paused, pulling a small mirror from the drawer to the left of the bed. “Just a warning, you’re gonna find how you look right now unsettling. I have a psychiatrist in the hall waiting when you’re ready to talk.” Bucky’s eyes got wide. What the hell happened to him? What was he talking about? 

The doctor stood up and pulled Bucky’s blankets down. He used the mirror to show him the angry red wound that covered a third of his torso. “You have quite a bit of broken bones and some internal bleeding that is being monitored.” Bucky shifted uncomfortably in the bed, making the base of his shoulder sting again. Something more than guilt was starting to settle in his stomach as the mirror moved up to his face. “Your left eye socket is fractured, as you can see.” Bucky’s whole left eye was swollen shut, fading from black to shades of purple and yellow. He felt numb.

“I’m going to need you to take a deep breath and try and prepare yourself for this next one Sergeant Barnes.” The brunet gulped nervously. Surely he just needed a surgery and a cast, right? Dr. Wilson waited another moment before moving the mirror down past the base of the brunet's shoulder. Bucky gasped, tears falling from his eyes immediately. All he could see was the sleeve of the hospital gown. He hastily snatched the mirror from the doctor’s hand. 

It couldn’t be true. This had to be some cruel prank or nightmare. There was no way his arm was gone. He felt the stinging pain not only minutes earlier. Bucky kept aiming the mirror at the blank space where his arm should be. He started to breathe erratically, the heart monitor beeping faster. 

“Sergeant Barn-” Dr. Wilson said, before getting cut off by the frightened young man.

“Get out!” Bucky screamed, throwing the mirror across the room, the glass shattering and shooting everywhere. “Get out!” 

Dr. Wilson’s face fell, unable to imagine how much pain that he was in. He hit the emergency call button and three nurses ran in. He needed to sedate the young soldier before he caused more harm. Bucky thrashed in his bed and screamed, trying to escape. Three of them held him down, while the other nurse quickly put the medicine into the IV. Bucky slowly calmed, eventually slouching into the bed, his eyes falling shut. The doctor sighed, stepping away from the bed. He felt horrible for the young man; he wasn’t even in his thirties yet, and he had to deal with this for the rest of his life. He took one last glance at his patient before shutting the door softly behind him.

~~~

Bucky woke up sometime the next day. Everything from the day before was slightly foggy in his head. He looked at his bandaged shoulder and sighed. He deserved this. He got everyone in his squad killed, and Natasha almost died. Losing his arm was the penance that he was going to have to pay. He knew he should have died along with them. He didn’t deserve to live, not even this horrible new life. Bucky couldn’t help but let these thoughts consume him.

Hours later, Dr. Wilson made his way back into the room, two other doctors in tow. “Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. Hopefully, you’re doing a bit better now?” he asked, walking to the foot of the hospital bed. Bucky just stared at him. Frowning, Dr. Wilson nodded for the other two to come up to the bed. 

“I want you to meet your other doctors. This is Dr. Strange. He’s a prosthetist,” Dr. Wilson said, motioning to a serious-looking man in scrubs with neatly combed back hair and gray sideburns. “This is Dr. Banner, he will be your psychiatrist.” He gestured to the other man who had glasses, curly salt-and-pepper hair, and a lab coat. “I think it’s good that you talk with them. I’m going to head outside to the nurse’s station,” he suggested before exiting the room. 

Bucky stared at the two doctors for a moment before sighing. “Please leave.”

“James, you really do need to talk to someone, and if you’re going to have a prosthetic, it needs to be fitted sooner rather than later.” Dr. Strange said bluntly, crossing his arms. 

“Stephen, he needs to be able to deal with this at his own pace, even if that’s slower than you think it should go.” Dr. Banner said, sitting down in one of the chairs by the wall. 

“Look, James, I’m gonna be honest with you. If you want a decent prosthetic implant, you need to make a decision within the next forty-eight hours. Otherwise, too many skin and nerve cells will start dying. You’ve already been in a coma for a week. We have some of the best prosthetic advancements here in D.C., and they can give you a chance to re-enlist.” Dr. Strange said, ignoring Dr. Banner. Bucky perked up at his words.

 

“What kind of implants are there?” Bucky asked.

“Well, it’s still coming out of it’s experimental stages, but we have been working with cybernetic prosthetics. They are made available mainly to soldiers who are interested in continuing their service and have a clean record, and you qualified. They’re made of titanium and can lift up to 400-600 pounds in extreme cases. The plates on the prosthetic allow it to have basic flexibility and perform like a normal arm. Though I wouldn’t try bending the limb too far forward or back because it puts the plates at risk for damage. There currently isn’t a ‘skin’ we can put over it due to all the moving parts, but we are currently working on that. 

“There are some downsides to this prosthetic though,” Dr. Strange paused, trying to gauge Bucky’s reaction, “Since it’s cybernetic, it has an access port, or socket, in the arm. It will be put in your shoulder surgically, connecting your nerve endings to wires. It will always be a part of your body. We would also need to amputate the small part of your arm that’s left in your shoulder. The base of your shoulder down to your hand would be the part that you could disconnect for cleaning, adding a new unit, or fixing the current unit if you have problems.” Dr. Strange looked at Dr. Banner, waiting for him to interject, but got nothing. “We also have the normal, non-cybernetic prosthet-”

“I want the cybernetic arm. I don’t care what you have to do. I want to serve again. I’m not gonna let my friends’ deaths be in vain,” Bucky interrupted, looking Dr. Strange directly in the eyes. “I want it as soon as possible. Just do it.” 

“James, are you sure? This is a major decision, you haven’t even had time to heal from your injuries or process this emotionally,” Dr. Banner began trying to find a way to get him to understand. Having the surgery so soon could potentially make the PTSD and long-term mental issues worse.

“I want the surgery. Give me the consent papers.” Bucky said, lowering his eyes, staring at his legs, covered by the ugly blue hospital blanket. 

Dr. Banner sighed, running a hand through his hair. Patients always wanted the surgeries. They didn’t want to take time to adjust. He was of sound mind to understand what was about to happen, so there was simply nothing he could do. He would have to work through this with the young man during his physical therapy and rehabilitation. “I’ll go get the papers, then.” Dr. Banner said, feeling irritated and leaving the room.

“When he gets back, we can get the ball rolling. Once the paperwork goes through, you should be in surgery sometime tomorrow.” Dr. Strange said, sitting on the end of the man’s bed. “Recovering from this won’t be easy, James. It’s going to take at least six to eight weeks for your shoulder to heal, if not longer. Then after that, several months or even a couple years of physical therapy and rehab to get used to your new arm. This is going to involve pain, lots of hard work, and a lot of patience. Are you sure this is what you want?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Bucky said quietly, but with enough determination to satisfy him. Dr. Strange nodded and got up from the bed to talk to Dr. Banner. 

Bucky sighed, he deserved this, whatever was going to happen, whatever pain was about to happen. It was the only way to honor the people who lost their lives because of him. His thoughts were interrupted when a nurse came in shortly after, giving him the consent papers to sign. He slowly lifted his right arm to give a half-assed signature, then politely shooed her away. Bucky leaned his head back and tried to think about what to do once all this was over. 

 

After six hours, that felt like six minutes, several nurses came in to wheel him down to pre-op. There’s no turning back now.


	2. I Can’t Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based a few months after Bucky’s inital injuries. Also the Russian word подруга/podruga means friend. It is an inside nickname used between Buck and Nat since they are close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also on a seperate note, I want to say I am sorry for not updating quickly. I have a lot going on work wise and life wise. I work 6 days a week ‘bout 80hrs while trying to maintain my outside life. I am posting chapters as quickly as I can. I hope you folks understand. Also much love to @Beepbeepromanoff for being my beta reader. I can not express my love for you 💜❤️💜 You’ve helped me keep going through all this crap

10 weeks later…..

 

“Jamie!” Natasha screamed, dropping her bags and running over to see the brunet standing by the hospital window. 

“Nat!” Bucky beamed, catching the redhead with his right arm as she jumped on him, giving him a bear hug. He was glad to see Natasha; besides his regular nurses and doctors, he had been all alone for the past two and a half months. He hugged her back tightly. “How have you been подруга?” 

“I’m better now that we can hang out again, seeing as how that base hospital was driving me fuckin’ nuts. The USERRA was giving me a hard time about coming back to the states to see you. Totally worth it, though,” Natasha smiled, going back to get her bags from the door. Bucky grinned; it really was good to have a friend with him. 

“How is everyone back at the base?” Bucky asked, sitting down on his bed, tucking some stray hairs behind his ear. It had gotten a bit longer in the past few weeks and surprisingly, wasn’t bothering him. Natasha put her bags on of the chair and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Well, Rhodey is on leave right now, and he’s about to propose to his girlfriend. Clint got promoted to Staff Sergeant, and Phil got shot in the leg. So he’s at the base hospital in recovery for the next two weeks,” Natasha said, counting the events off on her fingers. “Oh, and Wanda and Clint are having a weekly competition to see who can bench more,” The redhead laughed. Bucky shook his head. Wanda was also trying to outdo the guys there. 

“Your hair got long, almost as long as mine.” She ran her fingers through his hair, studying it. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes wandering to the empty sleeve where his arm used to be. She could see the fresh, angry, red scarring from Bucky’s amputation and housing device from the collar of his v-neck. “Hey, how are you doing?” she asked, suddenly serious and concerned.

Bucky’s smile fell and he grabbed at his shoulder in embarrassment. “I’m still breathin’, ya know?” 

“Jamie, you don’t have to be ashamed. It’s a miracle you’re still alive after everything that happened,” Natasha said. She looked at him softly, touching his knee, trying to reassure him. Bucky pulled back, not wanting her to touch him now.

“That’s the thing, Nat, I shouldn’t be alive after what happened. The others aren’t. Why do I get to live? I’m the one that caused this. I killed them, and I hurt you.” Bucky looked out the window with tears welling in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. 

“Jamie. Look at me!” She demanded, poking Bucky’s good shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself for this! If I had picked the shortest straw before we went out, I would have been the one to go over the IED, not you. You had no idea this was going to happen, and there was no way to avoid this! You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you keep blaming yourself.” 

Bucky looked at Natasha and sighed. A part of him knew she was right. There was nothing that he could have done to change what happened. The IED was hidden well underneath the sand on the road. Even a skilled bomb technician wouldn’t have been able to spot the IED soon enough. 

“So, I started physical therapy this week,” he said, wanting to get away from the subject.

“Well...how is it? Does it hurt?” Natasha asked, her eyes drifting to the scars again.

“I mean, it doesn’t feel like kittens and rainbows if that’s what you’re wonderin’.” Bucky smiled, trying to make light of the situation, “You wanna see don’t you?” 

“Yes. If it’s ok. Was I that obvious? I’m sorry,” Natasha blushed, “You don’t have to show me. I know you probably still feel weird about it.”

“Nat, it’s fine. I’m going to have to get used to showing it to people at some point. I might as well start now.” Bucky said, getting up and going to the dresser that was in his room. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a long object covered by a black cloth. He walked back to the bed, setting it down in front of Natasha. She looked at it for a moment, before looking at Bucky. He gave her a nod of approval to lift up the cloth. Natasha gasped as she lifted the cloth up, it was incredible. The arm was completely covered with titanium plates but looked completely smooth to the touch. She picked up the arm and studied it, looking at the top where it connected to the housing unit. It was covered in magnets, cables, and looked so intricate but so simple at the same time. 

“Can you put it on?” Natasha said looking at the arm, then back at him. 

“Um, sure.” Bucky rolled his left sleeve all the way up, then grabbed the prosthetic. He was still getting used to putting the device on. It was significantly lighter than one would expect, but it was sturdy and still difficult to maneuver. He hated when it touched his skin, it was always cold and took forever to warm up. He knew it would only get worse being exposed to the elements. He sighed in satisfaction when it clicked into place. Bucky shook his shoulders out a few times before standing up, turning to his left side and showing Natasha.

“You look like the Terminator!” she gushed, grabbing the Bucky’s arm gently and examining it as the plates moved with his actions. “These are much more flexible than all the other prosthetics I’ve ever seen. Who did you fuck to get something like this?” Natasha gasped, watching Bucky’s titanium fingers move like regular ones. 

“No one, surprisingly,” Bucky laughed, there was no denying that he was particularly blessed in being able to have the prosthetic, “Though, once I fully heal, I have to re-deploy.” 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Natasha snapped, letting go of his arm, “James, you’re done; you don’t have to go back. What are you trying to prove?” 

“I have to. You don’t understand. I just have to,” Bucky mumbled, turning away from the angry redhead as tears finally made their way down his face. He hated trying to stay strong in front of the doctors, the nurses, everyone. He felt pitiful sitting here crying in front of Natasha, but he couldn’t stop now. Almost three months worth of feelings and pain were flowing out of him, hitting him like a truck. His chest felt like it was getting too tight, his breaths coming out rapid and uneven. He buried his face in his hands, the cold touch of the titanium eliciting more sobs. With every sob that came out, his throat became rawer. Why was he still alive? Death would have been easier than dealing with all of this. He clutched his chest with his good hand, his chest jumping sporadically from hyperventilating. 

“Hey, Jamie, shhh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Natasha reassured, her anger vanishing, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around him. She used her other hand to wipe brown strands from his face, then running her fingers through his hair, “I’ve got you.” 

She could feel the brunet trembling in her arms, it was so unlike him. The Jamie that she knew was always strong for everyone else, always smiling, keeping the squad's spirits high. She couldn’t even imagine how much pain he was in, feeling like everything was his fault. After a few minutes, Bucky’s sobs turned into quite sniffles.

“I’m sorry I freaked out like that,” he sniffled, looking up. His steel blue eyes were puffy and red from crying. 

“It’s okay, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. I didn’t mean to make it worse. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on up in that head of yours,” Natasha said, poking his temple before a tissue from the nightstand. Bucky blew his nose several times before looking at her again.

“I have physical therapy and counseling soon; you wanna come?” Bucky asked, looking at the clock, almost one o’clock. He felt embarrassed about what had just happened and hoped Natasha wouldn’t bring it up again. 

 

“Duh. I’m not being stuck in this room without you,” she laughed and pinched his cheek before getting up, “Maybe there are some good-looking doctors you wanna introduce me to?” 

“Trust me, Nat. You don’t wanna date any of the doctors in here. They’re all retired military somethin’ or other,” Bucky replied, raising an eyebrow as he watched her mess with her hair in the mirror.

“I didn’t say I wanted to date them, Jamie,” Natasha winked, grabbing her purse, “Let’s go. I wanna see where you do all your arm stuff.” 

Bucky waved her off, standing up from the bed stretching, then he smoothed his joggers out before walking over to Natasha. “Just try not to pounce on the doctors, you crazy ass.”

Natasha pinched his arm as they walked out of the room, sticking her tongue out. Bucky looked out the hallway windows as they went down the corridor; it was one of the more pleasant things about going to and from physical therapy. It overlooked a huge garden area, all sorts of flowers, bushes, and trees. He wasn’t a sap or anything, but James Buchanan Barnes did enjoy a beautiful garden, full of plants in bloom. If he was being honest, the cherry blossom tree and the orchids were his favorite. Maybe he would have a garden at home when he finished his last tour. They may invent a weeding attachment for his arm by then. He snorted to himself at the ridiculous thought.

“We almost there?” Natasha asked, looking around and watching the various doctors as they passed them. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said flatly. 

They rode an elevator down to the first floor. As they entered, Bucky sighed. The obscenely bright fluorescent lights, seeing the others who were in physical therapy, looking at the machines; it all made him depressed. 

“I don’t see my physical therapist in here yet, so I guess we have a few minutes to sit.” He led Natasha over to one of smaller tables in the room. 

“So...what do you do in here? It looks like you can move your arm just fine.” Natasha inquired, looking around the room.

“I have to do strength, motor and flexibility tests. Dr. Strange and Dr. Banner also help calibrate the arm to my body. It’s all really stupid, honestly.” Bucky said, making a fist of his left hand in his lap, the arm taking a fraction of a second longer than he would like for it to respond. It just made him angrier; this was supposed to be superior technology. Why did he have to do all of this stupid shit? It should just work. Just more salt in the wound that was now his life. His frustrated thoughts ceased a moment later when his therapist and a blond man walked through the door, talking to each other. For a second he thought it was another patient, but after seeing how his face glowed and noticing he had a proper gait about him, it was obvious he wasn’t. He raised an eyebrow at Dr. Banner. It looked like they knew each other pretty well. Was he another doctor? He couldn’t be, he would remember that smile and the piercing blue eyes that were getting closer to him. Shaking his head, he sighed. Who the fuck cared who this guy was? He just wanted to get through this and get out of here. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Barnes. How are you doing?” Dr. Banner asked as he arrived at the table with the other man. 

“Good. Still breathing, as always, doc. And this is my best friend, Natasha. She was one of my squad members.” Bucky said, motioning to the redhead. She shook the doctor’s hand with a bright smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Natasha. I have a friend substituting for Dr. Strange today. This is Steve Rogers. He’s a professor of therapy sciences at George Washington University. He’s taught a lot of the doctors that work here.” 

“Hello, Mr. Barnes, Natasha,” Steve said, smiling and holding his arm out to shake their hands. The brunet took it with his right hand, surprised at how strong, but gentle Steve’s handshake was. He looked at him again, taking in his features. His hair was styled in a short side part, thick eyebrows, bright blue eyes, and a strong jaw. He was tall, built, and his muscles were well defined. He was probably one of the most attractive guys Bucky had seen. He knew that this guy had college girls falling for him. 

“Well, we should probably get started,” Dr. Banner said, pulling Bucky from his thoughts, “We have a lot to do.”


	3. Humble and Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky does a bit of physical therapy, and learns some life lessons from our favorite Blonde :)

Bucky watched the blond as he went into one of the cupboards and began putting small pieces of equipment in a box to bring back to the table. Dr. Banner gave the brunet his space while he worked with the physical therapist but was close by if he got too upset or was having a hard time. 

“Did you wanna stay here for a few?” Bucky asked, studying Natasha’s face, trying to figure out what she was thinking. 

“Definitely. Do what you have to, I’ll watch from over here.” Natasha said with a pat on the back, reassuring him that he would be okay. 

“Alright, I’ll be back. Don’t scare the nice doctor, Nat.” Bucky joked, standing up from his chair and begrudgingly making his way over to the table Steve was at. He sat down, sighing as he looked over the ‘equipment’ they were going to use that day. There was a three-pound weight, a foam stress ball, a piece of wood and a pen with paper. It looked like shit a four-year-old kid would play with, not something that would help rehabilitate a soldier with a cyborg arm. He watched the blond as he sat down at the table and pulled out a small checklist, looking it over before returning his gaze to Bucky.

“So, Mr. Barnes, what would you like to get started with today?” Steve inquired, motioning his hand out to the objects out in the table. Bucky didn’t answer him, he just picked up the weight with his left hand and looked at him. Steve raised an eyebrow at the brunet for a moment and carried on moving the other equipment away for now. 

“So… what do you want me to do with this?” Bucky asked, looking at the weight. This was pitiful. 

“Well, we’re gonna work on repetitive movements with weight. As your therapy continues, the weight will gradually increase. So you can set your arm on the table and just do five sets of three slow, and steady bicep curls, with thirty-second breaks in between.” Steve said. 

“Okay, fine.” He put his elbow on the table and starting to flex the arm slowly, which was actually more difficult to do than he thought. The arm itself, even though it was lightweight, still took some effort to get used to it, and the dumbbell made it even more difficult. The first two sets of curls were easy enough, but as he finished his third set, his shoulder and prosthetic were slightly shaking. But he wasn’t going to give up. Not when Steve’s piercing blue eyes were staring at him. Bucky started his fourth set without the thirty-second break and picking up speed, just to get the activity done. 

“Mr. Barnes, you need to slow down. Let your body adjust, and if it starts to hurt or feel too odd, you can stop. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone can benefit from a break now and then,” Steve said softly, reaching out to gently touch Bucky’s arm.

“Fuck off man, I can do it.” He spit out, staring at his shaking arm, and pushing the last three curls out, finally dropping the dumbbell. His whole arm was shaking, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire. 

Steve sighed. This was normal for most physical therapy patients at the beginning of their rehab. They wanted to push themselves to get better so they could just leave. He turned around to motion for Banner to come over. He made his way over toward his patients, who was still staring at his prosthetic.

“Mr. Barnes, do you wanna talk about it?” Dr. Banner asked, taking Steve’s place at the table. 

“No...I just want to finish this. I can do this.” His voice got softer and pulled his left arm into his lap. His strength and energy were drained, and his arm felt like dead weight. 

“You know, Steve is right. Sometimes you need a break. Especially in these early stages, pacing yourself is crucial. Let me ask you this: when you learned how to assemble and disassemble your firearm to clean it, wasn’t it hard? You couldn’t do it easily, and you would put it back together incorrectly, right?” Dr. Banner asked. Bucky nodded, looking up at him. “Think of this as something similar to that. It seems hard, and pretty impossible right now, but the more you do it, the easier it’s gonna get.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I don’t like that you’re right, but...” Bucky trailed off and straightened himself back up in his chair. 

“You know, I know that look you keep giving yourself Mr. Barnes, and you should stop having such negative thoughts about yourself. It won’t do you any good, not your mental state or your physical state. Sometimes things just suck, and they’re hard. I know you hate it, but you have to look at this like you look at any other difficult thing. You work on strategies to overcome it.” Steve said. He had the words of someone who had seen many defeated patients.

“I guess, but this is bullshit. I’m not a weak person, and this shouldn’t be difficult. I just feel like I’m not good enough.” Bucky sighed.

“You are good enough. Instead, how about you say ‘maybe I just need a bit more practice’ or ‘this is difficult now, but I can work to change that’. You need to stop taking pity on yourself.” Dr. Banner said, crossing his arms, “It’s not going to take you anywhere but down.” 

Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I’m not pitying myself. I’m just a piece of shit. We both know it.”

“James, look.” Steve moved his chair closer to the brunet and stared at him with an intensity sure to make anyone blush, “I know you feel like everything that happened is your fault, and you feel like the only way you’re gonna make it up is if you live the rest of your life suffering. I think we both know that this isn’t truly your fault. You know how you honor your friends’ deaths? You live your life to the fullest. Don’t let it be in vain by spending your time grieving. They certainly wouldn’t be happy if they saw you like this. It’s gonna be difficult. But anything worth doing is hard, takes a lot of work, and is gonna annoy the hell out of you.” 

Bucky glared at Steve for a moment before mulling over everything he said in his mind. He knew what he said was at least somewhat correct. The man was right; he just didn't want to admit it. Every time they talked, they ended up talking about this in one way or another. He sighed, looking back up at the man and seeing nothing but compassion. “Look, I know you think this is helping me, but it does nothing. I just want to learn how to use it and go.” Bucky said quietly, knowing he was being a little bit of an ass. 

With a sigh, Dr. Banner sat up straight. “I think you should do one more exercise, then go back to your room and relax your arm. You put it under a lot of stress today. We’ll talk again on Thursday, Mr. Barnes.” He stood up and looked at him for a moment longer before walking back over to the table where Natasha was. Bucky watched him talk to her and walk away, staring at a small slip of paper she had given him in bewilderment. 

Steve was still watching him when he turned back around in his chair. “So what would you like to do for your last exercise?” The blond asked gently, moving some objects back into the center of the table. 

“The ball,” Bucky answered quickly, thinking it was going to be the simplest activity. 

“Alright, we’re gonna work on your coordination and motor skills by tossing the ball back and forth. Is that ok?” Steve asked with a soft expression on his face.

Bucky noticed the look. His first instinct was to get angry at any sign of pity, but he soon realized it was a look of empathy and understanding. Steve’s eyes were like tranquil pools of water and oddly calmed him. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was an asshole,” Bucky said quietly as they tossed the ball back and forth. 

 

“Trust me, I’ve learned not to take it personally. I can’t even begin to imagine what you're going through, or what's going on in your mind. It’s not my place to judge you. I just want to help you get better,” he replied with an easy smile.

Bucky caught the ball, barely, with his left hand and rolled it around in his palm for a few seconds. Steve watched his movements carefully. For a moment, Bucky was embarrassed. This man surely thought he looked crazy. Long, stringy hair, a body riddled with gruesome scars, and a shiny metal arm. Shaking his head at the intrusive thoughts, he threw the ball back to Steve, albeit crookedly. “So where is Doctor Strange?” Bucky asked suddenly. 

“He teaches some seminars at the university once a week, and we have a deal that I come and cover for him on that day,” Steve answered, effortlessly catching the ball and palming it for a moment before shooting the brunet a serious look, “I know this must be odd for you, especially if no one informed you that I was going to be here. It’s probably a sensitive time for you, a new prosthetic and everything. Now a new physical therapist, too. It’s a lot to take on.”

“Honestly, It’s really fucking weird. It feels like a regular arm, sort of. Until I look down at it or touch my own skin with it.” His words came out as a sigh. He took the ball with his right hand and flexed his bionic fingers, turning his wrist back and forth. “What made you want to teach physical therapy?” Bucky blurted out again. God, he was being such a nosy ass right now, his self-isolation from others was making him a complete idiot in regular conversation. 

“My dad came back from Vietnam with some pretty serious injuries. He was given poorly-made prosthetics that made his life even more difficult. I was born about a year after. He ended up getting really sick when I was a kid and died. Even when I was young, I could tell he was in a lot of pain. Physical therapy and prosthetics have made leaps and bounds since then and I always wanted to be a part of it. My only memories of him are just overshadowed by watching him struggle. I don’t want anyone else to go through what he did,” Steve answered solemnly, “The job is rewarding, though. I get to help soldiers all the time, and I get to teach others how to do it as well. It comes full circle.” The blond smiled, looking up at Bucky and opened his hands to catch the ball.

Bucky looked at him for a moment before throwing the ball back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you bring that up.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know, and it’s something I’m at peace with now. It also helps me with my job; my experience encourages me to help others. If I can do that, it feels like my dad didn’t go through all that pain for nothing, ya know?” Steve caught the ball and set it down on the table. He looked back up at him with a bright smile and passion in his eyes. “We can be done for today if you want. I know your shoulder must feel worn out.”

Bucky gazed at him softly. He kind of felt crappy for bringing up his past like that. “How do you just smile through it? I mean, that’s some serious shit.”

Steve smiled at him. “What else am I gonna do? I can’t change it, I can’t bring him back. If I let myself get depressed about every terrible thing that happened to me throughout my life, I would be miserable. I was beaten up a lot as a kid. My ma died when I was a teenager, and I had to put myself through school. I had to go through community college for my first two years because my top three schools couldn’t give me a full ride. I don’t know. I just made the best out of every situation I was in. Like I said, the time I spent being miserable could have been used to be productive. That’s just what you have to do when bad things happen. As long as you have the ability to help others and help yourself, you have to keep that mindset. That’s the best advice I can give anyone,” Steve said. He started to clean up the table, putting papers and their exercise equipment in a box that was resting on the floor. 

Bucky watched him as he put everything away; he was slightly taken aback. This dude had been through hell, but he wouldn't let himself be a miserable fuck. “You can call me Bucky,” he paused, “You don’t have to call me James or Mr. Barnes. Just Bucky is fine,” he said giving Steve a half smile. He earned his respect. 

“Alright Bucky, I’ll see you next week,” Steve smiled, holding his arm out to shake the brunet’s hand. 

Bucky looked at it for a moment before extending his prosthetic and taking the other’s hand in his own metallic one. He felt warm and welcomed. He didn’t feel broken or odd around Steve. “Alright. Next week it is.” He watched Steve for another moment before returning to Natasha in the lobby. 

“How was it?” Natasha asked, finishing a text, then putting her phone in her pocket. 

“Ninety-percent of it was like nails on a chalkboard,” Bucky laughed. Natasha shook her head in amusement.

“Guess what, Jamie?” Natasha poked his chest before standing up to leave.

“What?” 

 

“I said guess,” she said with a devilish grin. 

“Um...you have to go back early. You won a million dollars. You’re getting a medal,” Bucky said, rattling off possible options as they got on the elevator. 

“No, none of those. I got Bruce’s number.” The red-head smirked. “I’m going to meet him tonight for some dinner,” She said, (‘dinner’ being in air quotes, of course) waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Bruce? You mean…Dr. Banner?” Bucky was shocked. “I told you not to be a crazy ass; why are you trying to sleep with my doctor you idiot?” he said, pinching Natasha with his right hand as they got off the elevator. Natasha smacked his hand away playfully, prancing a few steps ahead of him as part of her strategic escape plan. 

“He wanted it! Trust me, I did not have to do much persuading, Jamie. Have you seen the man? And I said we were going to dinner. It could end up being more, or it could be just that,” Natasha laughed, enjoying how this conversation was making that vein on Bucky’s temple pop out like it did when she fucked with him.

“He’s old enough to be your uncle, Nat. And closer to forty than thirty. Why do you wanna sleep with someone that much older than you?” Bucky asked, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. 

The redhead sighed. “He’s like twelve years older than me, at most. And why shouldn’t I want to sleep with him? He’s a grown man who has his shit together, and he’s pretty fucking attractive whether you realize it or not. And I’m also a grown woman. Trust me, I’m in better hands with him than I have been with most guys I met in the army.” Natasha said as they walked up the corridor to his room.

 

“Look, I just don’t wanna have to beat up my doctor if he ends up getting fresh with you podruga,” Bucky chuckled, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders. 

“Dude. You and I both know that I’d take of him before you’d even get the chance,” she smiled, hugging him from the side before letting him go. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna freshen up and go okay? Bruce said he would get done at four.”

“Go’head. And hey, just remember to bring me back some decent food from your ‘dinner’. I’m tired of this shit hospital food, alright?” Bucky sat down on the bed and watched her as she opened a compact to fix her makeup. 

“You know I will; you should get some rest while I'm gone, Jamie. You look tired,” Natasha said and looked at him for a moment. 

The brunet sighed and leaned back in his hospital bed. He did feel worn out. He shouldn’t have acted like an asshole in physical therapy and his shoulder was still on fire. 

“As soon as I get back, we’re gonna get comfy watch old movies on my laptop, okay?” Natasha asked. She returned to his side for a moment to move some stray hairs out of his face. 

“Alright, now go get your freak on, woman. You are the Black Widow! Scourge of all men!” Bucky laughed. Natasha laughed with him and gave him kiss on the cheek before heading over to the door. 

 

Bucky waved her off then closed his eyes, really settling into the bed before thinking about some of the things Steve said to him. He really did need to get over himself. He was lucky to be alive. He may not be one hundred percent yet, but he was getting there. And shittier things have happened to other people and they weren’t complaining about it. So for the first time since he got the prosthetic, he didn't bother taking it off as he started to drift into a light sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for keeping up with the story this far! I know the chapters are coming out slow, but I promise they are worth it! Sadly the next update won’t be until after Christmas, i’m working 7 day weeks until then. As always, much love to Beepbeepromanoff my beta reader 💜 and I hope everyone enjoyed the update!


	4. Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since I updated this fic, but I promise it's not dead! Christmas season and getting back on track with life was a little tough since the last update. A heads up though, I will be moving the first week of March, so it will be a little while before I post an update again. I wanna give a big thanks to Beepbeepromanoff as always, for continuously pushing me out of my ruts, being an amazing Beta-Reader for this fic and just all the support. I also wanna extend a big thank you to all of you guys for your continued support, even though I am a crummy at updating D: 
> 
> Anyway, here is the chapter you guys have been waiting for!

One Week Later

 

“Do you care if Bruce and I go on another date this weekend?” Natasha asked from the hospital bed.

“As long as you don’t talk about you two sleeping together again, you can live with the man for all I care,” Bucky laughed, peeking his head out of the bathroom and giving the redhead a smile before going back to drying his hair. Steve was coming again today, and something in his mind was telling him not to look like complete trash this time. He looked like a hobo the week before. Wiping some condensation off the mirror, he checked himself out, looking for things to fix. He had some pretty messy facial hair coming in, he might as well hack that off as well. Going out into the hospital suite, Natasha whistled at him.

“I don’t get it. How do you still have abs of steel after almost dying AND being in the hospital for almost three months? I would kill to keep mine, but if I have a cheat weekend, POOF, they’re fucking gone,” she sighed and went back to her phone.

“I work out at least twice a week, Nat. Nothing serious but I keep up with it as much as I can.” He pulled out a razor set and shaving cream from his bag and put them on the counter before shifting his attention to the bags of clothes Natasha had bought him as a surprise earlier that week. There were mostly jeans and t-shirts, but physical therapy didn’t call for something that serious. He dug through another bag that had some sweats in it. Rummaging through the bag, he pulled out a long sleeve, dark grey v-neck, then pulled out a pair of joggers. In his mind, they were a little tacky, having various zippers in odd places, but it would do. 

Bucky walked back into the bathroom and shaved slowly but steadily with his left arm. Proud that he only nicked himself twice on his neck, he began to change. The shirt felt a little tighter than something he would normally wear, but he dismissed it since it made him look ripped. When he began to pull the joggers on, he noticed them already hugging the skin on his calves, and around his thighs. Sighing, he pulled the pants the rest of the way up. What was this woman trying to do to him? Cut off his circulation? 

Jesus, you can practically see my briefs, he thought.

“Uh, Nat…” Bucky said, walking out into the room. “Why’d ya buy me pants this fuckin’ tight?”  
Natasha looked up from her phone and she smirked. She got up from the hospital bed and walked over to the other, circling him and looking him up and down. “Look at you, and look at that ass!” Natasha laughed, giving him a playful smack on his right cheek. “Who knew, Bucky Barnes has got a booty on him!”

His face flushed as red as his best friend’s hair. “Shut up! Did you buy me these in the kid’s department?” Bucky groaned, exasperated at how the fabric clung to his lower half. He looked at himself in the window. The pants hugged his curves aggressively, showing the parts of his body he tried to hide. Bucky had always been a little thicker in the leg and glute department, even without the army’s workout regime to perk it up. He was happy with his loose joggers and was quickly starting to regret letting Natasha go on a shopping spree on his behalf.

“Oh, stop whining, Jamie! You look good! You’ve been through hell, but you sure don’t look like it. You should flaunt what you’ve got. Be proud of your self-sacrificing ass, for once,” Natasha laughed, “Hey, who knows? Maybe a nurse might want a piece of that cake you got there.”

“You realize, you’re not making me feel any better about this, right?” Bucky sighed, resigning himself to having lost this particular battle. He sat down on a chair near the door and pulled on his (thankfully) older pair of black Nike’s.

“Who cares? Either way, you’re gonna be late for your physical therapy appointment,” Natasha said, hooking her arm in his and dragging him out of his chair and the room.

“You just want to see Dr. Banner; you don’t care about my physical therapy, you ass,” Bucky grumbled as they made their way down the hall to the elevator. He caught several nurses, male and female alike, giving him a few looks on their way down. He suppressed blushing because he’s a fuckin soldier with a metal arm and all, and that would make him look SO not tough. 

You’d never see The Terminator blush, he thought. 

“I actually do care about your physical therapy, idiot. Bruce is only a plus to this situation,” Natasha smiled, poking the other in the side as they went down in the elevator.

“Whatever,” he said, and pulled the redhead off of the elevator behind him once they reached their floor.  
The two made the rest of the way silently to the physical therapy center, caught up in their own thoughts. As soon as they entered, Natasha made her departure over Dr. Banner, talking to him happily. Bucky shook his head and looked around the room amount and spotted Steve at a table with his tools already set up, and he seemed to be going over their daily checklist. Sighing and putting his hands in the pockets of his joggers, he trudged over to the other man.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, not to surprise him.

Steve looked up at him, pretty much staring at him checking him out for a moment before speaking, “H-hey.” He cleared his throat and seemed surprised at his own reaction, a blush rising on his cheeks, “I mean, hey.”

Bucky smiled at him in response and sat down. Steve took a moment to steal some glances at his patient. He looked very different than the last time. His hair looked freshly washed, face clean shaven, eyes bright, and a very soft smile adorning his face. He also noticed the new clothes, tight clothes. He had to admit, the fabric hugged his body perfectly. You didn’t even need to like men to appreciate the way the way Bucky looked. Steve shook his head. Stop thinking about his body, you pervert, he thought to himself before sitting down at the table.

Bucky leaned back in his chair as Steve got his bearings. He stretched his body out in a yawn, a sliver of skin peeking out. 

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Steve’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as his vision followed the trail of fine, dark hair down, down, dow- Oh. Please don’t faint. Please don’t faint. 

Bucky knew the other man was watching him a little too close to be normal, but he (the poor, oblivious guy that he is) chalked it up to him finally getting cleaned up. So as not look like a dumpster diver, of course. However, never let it be said that Natasha Romanov is as oblivious as James Barnes. Natasha Romanov knew exactly what was going on, and, boy, did she have a plan.

After watching the two work through their physical therapy regime for the past forty-five minutes, she finally caught the blond getting up and heading over to the fridge that was behind them. 

Perfect timing, she thought to herself. She excused herself from Bruce and casually made her way over. As she approached him, he was pulling two water bottles out of the fridge. Now was her chance. 

“Could you grab me a water bottle too?” Natasha asked as Steve was about to close the door to the fridge. 

“Oh, here ya go!” Steve smiled, giving her the one he was holding and going to grab another one out of the fridge. He stood up and did a once-over of the redhead and realized this was the Natasha that Bucky had been talking about. “So you’re the famous Podruga Bucky has mentioned.”

“The one and only.” Natasha smiled, not surprised in the least that he was talking up all his friends, but probably making himself sound like shit. 

She opened her water and took a long swig before looking back at the blond who was taking a sip himself, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “So, you think he’s cute, right?” 

Steve all but choked on his water, swallowing hard and wiping his mouth. “It’s that obvious?” He laughed softly. 

“Not extremely. But for someone who is overprotective of their best friend it is. Don’t worry though, I think it’s nice,” Natasha paused, messing with the paper on the water bottle, and flicking her eyes towards her friend. He was caught up trying to balance a pencil on one of his metal fingers, “I mean as long as you were planning about being cordial about it.”

“Cordial? Oh, oh. No, I wasn’t planning on taking it any further than what's going on now. He’s still adjusting to a new life already. I wouldn’t want to make that worse by trying to hit on him,” Steve said softly, taking another swig of his water. “I also suspect he prefers women over, well, men.” Steve chuckled.

“I mean, Jamie has never specifically said he wasn’t into guys,” she mused, “You could always ask him out for coffee and donuts. He has a bit of a sweet tooth. But you didn’t hear it from me,” she winked at the blond before finishing off her water and making her way back to Dr. Banner, all in a whirlwind of red hair.


	5. Update

Hey guys. I am so sorry to hit you with this, but I need to let you guys know I am going on hiatus. I recently moved and when I did there was an accident and I am currently out of work and on bedrest. I am battling some mental issues right now and trying to get my fininaces fixed from being out of work. I want to get this story to the best it can possibly be, and I don’t think right now I am in a place to do that. It is very hard for me to write this to you guys and I have been personally battling this for a week whether or not go on a hiatus. I wanna go ahead and thank beepbeepromanoff again. She has been a rock during this, even though I have been kinda crappy at getting back to her messages as of late. In the end, I hope I have not let you guys down, and I will do everything I can to get back into the swing of things and writing again. Again. I love you guys and I will try to get back in the saddle asap. ❤️💙❤️💙


	6. So Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is about to be released from the hospital, but is he ready?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS THE HIATUS IS OVER!!!   
> I just wanna say I love you guys so much for all the kind words and the support during my hiatus. It means so much to me, and it kept me going. So here is chapter 5. It’s a little longer than some of my other chapters, but you all deserved it! I have a lot of goods things coming for you guys in the story! I should be posting more frequently now. Work is a lot less busy.   
> As always. So much love, all the love to Beepbeepromanoff <3 ! She has been amazing not only as a beta reader, but as a friend through my accident. She kept me going and pushing through! She deserves all the thanks and love!!! Anyway, i’ll shut up. I know you guys wanna get to the chapter!   
> Love you guys~ Enjoy ~

Dr. Banner’s phone buzzed three times. He finished reading his documents before picking it up and looking at the screen. There were three texts from Strange; he didn’t know why the asshat couldn’t just send one text. Sighing, he opened his messages.

If James Barnes does well in his therapy today, I want you to consider outpatient therapy.

You and I both know he’s been in this hospital way too long.

If you do clear him for release, make sure he does not leave until after 5 PM. I want to do a few minor adjustments and check the prosthetic before he leaves. -Strange

He leaned back in his chair and groaned. Why did Strange always pull this shit? He could never talk to him about this in person. Always a text or email. The good doctor was just too busy to have an actual conversation with his colleague concerning a patient. This is why he hated surgeons. Taking a steadying breath, he straightened his glasses before replying.

He has done well this session and seems much more at ease with others. His physical appearance is better, which leads me to believe that he’s taking a step in the right direction concerning his mental health. I want to evaluate him with a physical therapist there. Is it alright if Steve handles this?

He watched Natasha sit down; she smiled at him. He figured he might as well spill the half-baked beans now, she would be able to read him anyway.

“Your friend may be released as soon as tonight.” Banner said, smiling at the redhead.

“What?” Natasha nearly yelped, catching herself, not yet quick enough. “You mean he could finally start living normally?”

“Something like that.” He smiled at her, “I’m just waiting to get Dr. Strange’s opinion, and if it’s good news, he can go tonight.” As he was speaking, they both heard his phone vibrate on the table.

Go ahead. I’d really like for him to be able to leave soon if we can.

Also don’t forget, if he does get good results from the test, don’t let him be discharged before 5.

Banner heard Natasha clap in happiness. He looked over his shoulder at her, “has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to look at someone’s phone without asking?” he smirked up at her.

“Hey! This is my Jamie we’re talking about!” She laughed, completely giddy. 

“I have a few questions and things I need to go over with him before I can sign off on his discharge papers. I’ll let you know what I decide on as soon as I can, okay?”

“Alright, but remember! I want to get him out of here!” 

\-----

Bucky had been wiping tears from his eyes from laughing when he saw Dr. Banner walking towards them.

“Hey doc, everything alright?” Bucky asked, his demeanor changing to serious as he saw him lay out a stack of papers on the table and sit down.

“Dr. Strange and I were discussing that we think it’s time that you move to outpatient therapy. If you think you’re ready for that,” he said, carefully gauging the reaction on his face. Sometimes, a patient’s expression said more than words. Alas, the face of Bucky Barnes revealed no emotions.

“I would like that,” he stated simply.

“Well then, I need to ask you and Steve here a few questions before it’s official, so let’s get started. Steve, you think the patient has shown any improvement with their prosthetic since starting your therapy sessions?”

“I think, in the few times I have had sessions with Mr. Barnes, he has shown vast improvement. Not only physically, but it seems as though mentally, regarding his implanted prosthetic.”

Dr. Banner nodded, writing down what Steve said. “Alright. Do you feel as though the patient can function by themselves or with minimal help from non-clinical staff once they leave the hospital and in-patient therapy?”

“He can lift weights of at least 20 pounds with his prosthetic easily and consistently, and he has control over a wide range of motion as well as consecutive motions. He also has the standard amount of flexibility one would have at this point in the therapy process. I do not suggest any in-home care at this time. And I would say that he can function on his own with almost complete ease, as long as he takes care of his prosthetic and follows at home care instructions,” Steve answered, very sure in his assessment. He had faith in Bucky, though he wasn't sure that Bucky had any faith in himself.

“Thank you. These next couple of questions are for you Mr. Barnes,” Banner said, looking at the brunet, “Upon discharging you, do you feel as though you could potentially be a danger others with this prosthetic?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t plan on using it for anything other than its intended purpose in civilian life, and its intended use in my military duties, the two being completely separate,” Bucky answered easily. He was gifted with arm and never dreamt of using it for anything other than helping him in his day to day life.

“When discharged, you will not have 24/7 access to a therapist or medical services in the case of PTSD triggers occurring. Do you believe without this, you could potentially be harmful to yourself?” 

The brunet answered him without missing a beat. “I am very sure I will not be a danger to myself. I have a support system in place if any possible triggers were to occur. I will also have all the phone numbers one would need for medical services and suicide hotlines in the event that my support system fails or can not be reached.” Banner looked at him for a moment, studying his face, his posture, anything that could be a giveaway that he was just giving him lip-service.

“If you were to be discharged tonight, would you have a temporary or semi-temporary place to stay?” The doctor asked, near the bottom of his list.

“Natasha and I have been in touch with home services and I have been given a list of homes and apartments that would be included in my stipend until I redeploy. I was told upon being discharged, I would need to call them and I could be put into a home within 48-72 hours. Until then, I would be staying with Natasha at her apartment, which she is renting on a month-by-month basis.”

Dr. Banner nodded, writing his needed notes down, then taking a moment to review all the answers given by the two younger gentlemen. After what seemed like hours to Bucky, Dr. Banner finally spoke.

“I think with all the information given, and my personal knowledge of your change in mental stability, along with Mr. Rogers, and Dr. Strange's faith in your prosthetic, you should be able to be discharged by tonight. Dr. Strange would like to see you one more time before you leave. So once he sees you, and signs your papers, you can head to the nurse's station and they will finalize it and release you.” Dr. Banner smiled, and pulling a few cards out of his folder and placing on the table in front of Bucky. “These are some hotline numbers, the first one is for wounded vets and PTSD, the second one is a suicide hotline, God forbid, but it’s happened. And the last one is my office number and my personal email at the bottom. If you have any further questions, let me know. In the future, I would like to meet at least once a week after one of your sessions down here, just call my office to schedule.” While cleaning up his things, he caught Bucky’s small smile, then made his way back to Natasha, the two talking happily as he sat down.

Bucky took a few deep breaths before looking at Steve, “I’m gonna get out of here,” he smiled, his shoulders and back relaxing in a way that they hadn’t in a long time.

Steve was happy for the brunet. He looked almost like a different person when he smiled and actually seemed at peace. He was actually glowing, and God was it gorgeous. Looking at the brunet now made him think about what Natasha had said to him earlier; he had a thing for coffee and a pretty big sweet tooth. 

An idea popped into his brain. There were plenty of coffee shops in the university area, and they had to have pastries of some sort, right? He could give Bucky his number and let him know if he wanted to see a friendly face or grab something to eat before he went to therapy, he was available. He also wanted to be there as a support system for the brunet. It was a win on both fronts. He started to pack up the equipment from their session and made his way to the cupboard where all the items were kept. He had to get his bearings before he gave his number to him. When he turned around, he saw Bucky was with Natasha and Dr. Banner. They were packing up and on their way to the door. Fuck. He had to act fast. He grabbed one of the napkins off the counter and pulled the leftover pen out of the box of items and scribbled his name and number down as legible as possible. He then quickly ran over to him before he got out the door.

“Hey, congrats on being discharged, Buck,” Steve said smiling at the brunet, fumbling with the napkin in his hand.

Bucky smiled and almost blushed. He was having a real problem with controlling his face lately. No one said his name like that though, and he wasn’t gonna lie, it sounded like a little New York accent slipped out when he said it that way. He always loved hearing an accent from home. “Thanks. I appreciate everything you said to Dr. Banner,” he replied, wishing he could squeeze the hell out of him. If Steve didn’t believe he could go home, Banner never would have let him.

“You’re welcome. I meant all of it. I think you’re ready to start leading a normal life again.” He paused, finally calming his hand enough to stop fumbling with the napkin. “If you ever need anything after getting settled back into civilian life, and we haven’t had a therapy session together, we could always grab a coffee or something,” Steve said, trying to make his voice sound as relaxed as it could. He wasn’t even formally giving the guy his number for an actual date, and yet here he was inwardly freaking out.

“I think that would be good. I need some friends here in the states to keep me centered until I redeploy,” he smiled.

“Cool, here’s my number.” Steve smiled, offering the number to the other. “Sorry, it’s on a napkin. The pad wasn’t with the pen when I was putting stuff away over there,” he laughed softly, letting his hand linger just a moment when the brunet grabbed the napkin, which he didn’t seem to notice. “I hope you get situated soon, let me know when you’re free for something and we’ll get together. If you need anything, just let me know!”

Bucky smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to it. I’m gonna head up to my room so I can pack up. See you!” Bucky waved before Natasha hooked her left arm with his right and led them towards the door. 

Natasha turned her head quickly and winked at Steve, giving him a small nod of approval before they were gone.

\-------

Shortly after Dr. Banner had approved his discharge, Dr. Strange came in and tweaked his arm a little bit and gave him an actual stand and case to put the prosthetic in when he didn’t want to wear it or when it needed to be deep cleaned. The discharge papers were then filled out and given to Natasha to hold on to until they were ready to go. Time was flying by for Bucky. He cleaned up his suite, and put what clothes and toiletries he could in his army duffle bag. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to be leaving, but he knew he felt the beginnings of something deeper than anxiety gnawing at the back of his head. But if he admitted that, they wouldn’t let him leave, so he had to push it aside until they were out of the hospital.

While Bucky cleaned, Natasha had managed to get his apartment situated and would be able to move into his own place in two days. It was a nice one bedroom that had a balcony and a few other nice amenities that Natasha had somehow wrangled for him. It was also in the same complex as hers, which was a huge plus. He wouldn’t feel so alone after all. Though he worried about what it would be like after she redeployed. It would be probably several months before he was cleared to go back. 

“Hey Jamie, what’s taking you so long? It’s not like you have to leave the place spotless, they do have a cleaning crew that comes in here,” Natasha laughed, looking at Bucky from her spot on the bed.

“I know, I just don’t want them to work too hard, and I can clean up for myself. You heard the doctor, I'm cleared for normal day to day shit,” Bucky smiled, almost proud of himself that he was able to say that now.

“Jamie. Let’s get out of here, everything is packed, all your paperwork is in order. You are a healthy, free, terminator man!” She said, hopping off the bed and grabbing a couple of his bags, motioning for him to grab the rest and head out.

Bucky smiled at her and relaxed a bit at her words. He gave the room one final look before heading towards the nurse's station. He was greeted with smiling faces and congratulations on his departure when he turned his paperwork in. On his way out, he looked around him one last time, smiling when they passed the garden. He told himself when he finally had a normal life and didn’t have to go back to the military, he was going to plant his own beautiful garden. 

The trip from the hospital to the apartment complex was a blur. He started to get lost in his thoughts, his head swarming with more negative than positive things. Who would he have to talk to while he was on leave and Nat was away? What if the army didn’t want him back and they took his prosthetic away? If it wasn’t for Natasha snapping him out of it, he would have lost it. 

“Alright, home sweet home!” Natasha smiled at the brunet, tipping their uber driver, then going to get their stuff out of the trunk.

Bucky followed suit and helped her with the bags. “So, you like this complex?” he asked, trying to make small talk with her and calm himself.

“I like it. It’s a little pricey, but like I was telling you before, it’s nicer than most places. I’m kinda jealous, your kitchen has an island that doubles as a breakfast bar and your balcony extends all the way to your bedroom. My balcony is only outside of the living room and that’s it. But I don’t need fancy, I’m leaving in a month and a half, ya know?” she said, buzzing them into the building. 

“This is kinda fancy Nat, You need a special key just to get in?” He asked, looking around. It looked like just a normal apartment building. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than the fact that it was very clean. It almost looked polished.

“It’s not that fancy. Most places in the states have it now. It’s just safer,” She mused, pressing the elevator button.

Bucky took in his surroundings carefully. The elevator was all metal, and there was a small round camera in the back left corner. The machine beeped and opened as they reached their floor. He followed her down a carpeted hallway until they got to apartment 1612. She scanned her card again and the door unlocked.

Upon going in, Natasha set his bags down at the foot of her couch. “I know it’s not a comfy king size bed, but I promise this couch is way better than those hospital beds,” she said, patting the armrest and laying out a plush blanket.

“It’s perfect. You know I can fall asleep on the floor just as well as I can fall asleep on a bed, I’m not picky.” He sat down and leaned back on the couch, letting out a breath of relief. Natasha joined him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’ve been so quiet since we left the hospital room,” she asked softly. 

“Yeah, just slowly adjusting to everything. I don’t think I’ve been accustomed civilian life for at least five years. You know, after my mom and dad died, I never went back home. Brings back a lot. I’m good though.” explained. She smiled and they sat in comfortable silence for about twenty minutes before her phone went off in her pocket. She pulled it out and was greeted with a text from Dr. Banner, asking if Bucky was alright.

He’s doing fine. We’re at my apartment. Thanks for asking :-)

“Hey, tell me if I sound like a horrible friend for asking this, but would you mind if I went out to see Bruce for, like, two...three hours tops? I would be back before midnight, and then we could pig out on ice cream and watch shitty sci-fi movies,” she asked, putting her phone down on the coffee table and turning to look at him.

“I don’t mind,” he lied smoothly. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now, but he didn’t want to trap her either, his issues weren’t her problem. “You have your own life and shit, you seriously don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know, but I want to be there for you. Bruce and I had originally made plans for tonight, but we didn’t know that you’d be discharged. Can I be honest with you?” She looked at him, he nodded and she continued, “I think I really like him, Jamie. Like actually like him. He’s such a nice guy and he treats me well so far, and I haven’t had that in such a long time.”

“I understand, podruga. That’s why I said go ahead. I get that you wanna make the most of your time with him before you go back. Now, go have fun,” Bucky said, faking a smile.

“Alright. I’m just gonna change and get going. It’s almost eight now, I’ll be back by eleven, I promise. There are like a million take-out menus on the counter in the kitchen if you get hungry, and the bathroom is at the end of the hallway, right next to my bedroom. The washer and dryer are in the the utility room by the door if you wanna wash your clothes, okay?” Natasha said, getting up and rushing to her room.

Just like promised, she was out of her bedroom and in a black halter, bodycon dress, her signature red lipstick and kitten heels in ten minutes. She made her way over the brunet and kisses him on the cheek. “Call me if you need me. I’m serious, okay?” she asked him, before making her way to the door.

“Gooo! I’m fine!” Bucky said, laughing, waving her off until she left.

He sat in silence, trying to keep his mind clear for a little over ten minutes before stirring. He needed to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to go back to the hospital so soon. He needed to find something to do. Chores popped into his head. He always found that when he was overseas and feeling a little anxious. He would tidy the common room, so that’s what he would do now. Looking down at Natasha’s table, he started sorting the papers. One pile into receipts from take-out and shopping. Another pile of mail, and the last pile random little documents. He got up, grabbing the bag that had his dirty clothes in it and dumped them into the washer. He looked down at what he was wearing, considering it, shrugged, and shucked off his pants. He checked all the pockets until he felt something, a napkin. He threw it in the trash can by the dryer but saw something scribbled on it. In his anxious state, he’d forgotten about Steve’s number, and fished it out. He started the load (with his pants) and typed the number into his contacts and set his phone on the arm of the couch.

Bucky’s nerves were still on fire and decided taking another shower would help ease his mind. He made his way down to the last door at the end of the hallway and started his shower. Letting the water run over his face, he tried to relax. His mind was still wandering, and the silence that surrounded him only made his anxiety worse. Before, he could always focus on the hustle and bustle outside of his hospital room to keep him distracted. He had nothing to keep the bad thoughts at bay.  
His focus drifted to the friends and fellow soldiers that he lost, to the funerals he couldn’t even attend because he was confined or in a coma. Memories of the bomb became more vivid as he stood in the steaming hot water of the shower.

For weeks now, it had been stored in the deepest corners of his mind, only remembering talking to his squad and then a flash of white light consuming everything. Now he could remember faint screams of the others, seeing Natasha flailing in her seat. Metal flying around them and intense heat consuming them. After that, all he could remember was waking up in the hospital. Tears flowed down his face and he bit the inside of his lip so hard it caused blood to dribble out of his mouth into the tub.

Slamming the faucet off and spitting some blood out, Bucky decided a shower wasn’t the best idea anymore. He grabbed the towel off of the counter and gave his hair a cursory rub, then wrapped it around his waist and crashed onto the couch. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it. Steve’s contact was there, the blue light of his number shining in his face.

He chewed his lip where he had bit it only minutes ago. Should he call him? Shaking his head he put his phone face down on the couch and closed his eyes. Why would he? He had barely been with this guy more than a few hours in total. But he knew he felt some kind of... warm and calm feeling when he was with him during their therapy sessions. He understood the pain and struggle that Bucky was going through. He wasn’t afraid to be real with him and comfort him. He could relate to the brunet’s experiences while still not making it all about him. He also didn’t wanna bother Nat and ruin what little time she had with Dr. Banner. Bucky sighed and picked up his phone, but didn’t turn it on. 

It’s almost eight-thirty, He’s probably busy or about to go to bed. But he told me to call if he ever needed anything, but that’s also something people just say to be polite. Maybe he actually meant it. He knows I have PTSD and must have been thinking about emergencies. Is this an emergency? Steve is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met; surely he wasn’t just putting me on. 

He pressed the blond’s number without giving it a second thought; he had to talk to someone.  
One ring and his stomach dropped, he could still hang up now and not have bothered Steve; this would have never happened. Another ring and he began to panic. He pulled the phone away from his ear and was about to hang up before he heard a voice.

“Hello?” Steve answered. His voice sounded thick with sleep, a little deeper and raspier than it was in their therapy session.

Fuck. He had to talk to him now; he woke him up.

“Hey, Steve, this is..” Bucky paused, swallowing and decided to use his nickname, instead of his first name. “This is Bucky, from the hospital.”


End file.
